


Step One

by misura



Series: Zhaarnak/Prescott ficlets [1]
Category: Starfire Series - Various Authors
Genre: Book: In Death Ground, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Prescott goes for a walk.





	Step One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trobadora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/gifts).



It had been a long time since Zhaarnak had permitted himself a hunt - and part of the reason he did so now, he admitted to himself, was because he wanted, perhaps even needed, the distraction. All very well that _Farshalah'kiah_ bade him focus on the here and now, rather than let the guilt and grief over past losses distract and paralyze him: Zhaarnak could not help but feel that if only he had been able to see the way, they might have emerged victorious, rather than merely alive.

Of course, in the case of his _vilkshatha_ brother, 'alive' very nearly counted as a miracle already.

Rationally, Zhaarnak knew no one could have hoped to do better, and some might have done worse, too blinded by the demands of what they perceived as 'honor' to choose survival over what humans called 'living to fight another day'.

Zhaarnak lived, therefore he would fight another day. It really should be as simple as that. On that other day, he would exact retribution, thereby laying his grief to rest.

_In theory,_ Zhaarnak allowed himself to add wryly. _Assuming we can find a way to beat these ... Bugs. Whcih we will, because we have no other choice._ He did not doubt that unless they were stopped, the Bugs would keep coming, devouring worlds and fleets alike, until there would be nothing left.

They were not even _chofaki_ \- dirt-eaters, though the insult fit their tactics and attitudes well enough. The Bugs ate _everything_.

_We will stop them,_ Zhaarnak swore to himself. _We will find a way._

 

Raymond Prescott realized that he had fooled himself into thinking his escape would go unnoticed. True, nobody had tried to stop him getting out of bed, putting on his uniform and walking out of the hospital, but he should have known better than to assume that meant nobody had noticed him.

They'd simply called his _vilkshatha_ brother to drag him back.

"I needed to stretch my legs," he said. "I have no intention of trying to run a marathon or do cartwheels." Nothing that had happened these past few weeks inspired the urge for the latter - except, perhaps, the fact that he had gained another brother.

Prescott still hadn't quite worked out how to break the news to Andy. Probably, Andy would have heard already by the time they met again, but there were a few things to the relationship between him and Zhaarnak that they had decided did not need to become public knowledge.

"That is good," Zhaarnak said.

Prescott recognized his expression as mildly puzzled and realized that Zhaarnak might well have no idea what marathons or cartwheels even were. They were not exactly terms that popped up a lot in daily use aboard starships, after all.

"I had to get some space," he said, switching to the Tongue of Tongues.

Zhaarnak's expression brightened and he nodded. "I understand. And you will not be foolish and keep walking even when you know you should rest."

To Zhaarnak's credit, he made it sound like simple fact, like he did not doubt even for a moment that Prescott _would_ do these things. _As I will,_ Prescott told himself. _After all, the longer I take to recover, the longer it takes for me to get back to battle._

"Of course," Prescott said. "As would you."

Zhaarnak purred a chuckle. "Yes. Indeed." He reached out with one of his hands, claws carefully sheathed, to touch Prescott's cheek: the hunter claiming respected prey. "We are both sensible people, are we not?"

Prescott realized that he'd gotten lucky. Not only had he survived, but his physical injuries had kept him from dwelling too much on what had happened, the losses they had taken. _The fate of the civilians we had to abandon, because our death wouldn't have saved them._

Zhaarnak had not been as lucky. And Prescott had not been there to reassure his _vilkshatha_ brother that they had, indeed, acted as sensible and honorable warriors should.

He was here now, though. He raised his good hand, to press Zhaarnak's, feeling just a hint of the sharpness of the still-sheathed claws as he pressed it against his cheek. "We are, brother. Let no one cause you to doubt that or tell you otherwise."

Zhaarnak grimaced, and Prescott knew what he was thinking. _But what if_ I'm _the one to doubt?_

"I begin to get a bit tired," Prescott said. "Shall we sit for a while? You can update me on how repairs are coming along." Prescott had already seen the reports, of course, but it would give them something to talk about, something for Zhaarnak to distract himself with.

Catching sight of Zhaarnak's alarmed expression, Prescott realized a bit too late that his comment had indeed been very successful in distracting Zhaarnak, though not quite in the way Prescott had intended.

All things considered, it was a good thing they didn't need to go far for a comfortable place to sit.


End file.
